


Love Letters

by sunalso



Series: Love Letters Verse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Mostly Fluff, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 06:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15382365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Academy Era AU. Six-year-old Jemma has a soulmate, he draws her monkeys and she draws him hearts. Ten years later, not much has changed, until the day she meets the man of her dreams.Beta'd by Gort!





	Love Letters

Jemma was six when she found out about soulmates.

Not everyone had one, but if you did, you could write on your skin, and they’d see it. To Jemma’s precocious self, who had trouble connecting with kids her own age, it sounded magical. She selected her super-special purple marker that smelled like grapes and wrote ‘hi!’ on her arm, with a heart as the dot over the ‘i’.

She stared at her arm, and after a few moments, a shaky looking ‘hi’ written in black marker appeared.

Jemma had a soulmate. How exciting!

She drew a heart. Her soulmate drew something that kind of looked like a monkey.

‘What’s your name?’ she wrote. But there wasn’t a response. That was weird. But after a while, her mum called her for dinner, and she didn’t think much about it until she woke up in the morning. There was writing on her arm, the printing clear if not perfect.

‘My dad won’t let me write. Says it’s bad. But I like you. My name is —’

There was just an unreadable squiggle after that, and she frowned at her arm.

Her mum found her like that.  She looked at Jemma’s arm and sighed. “You can’t write your name. Or where you’re at. No one knows why. You can usually do an initial.”

“Why can’t my soulmate write?” Jemma asked. As she watched, the writing on her arm started to disappear, like it was being washed off.

Her mom sat down beside her and put an arm around her. “Some people think that having a soulmate is a bad thing. That it’s a tool of…not good forces. But it’s just a thing. Something we don’t understand. Don’t write anything until tonight. Then I’ll help you.”

Jemma nodded, then followed her mom down to have pancakes.

That night, her mom took a black marker and wrote on her arm: ‘Hello, this is J’s mum. Please be safe. Don’t write unless you have to. Things will get better. Remember she can’t see your name or location.’

‘OK’ appeared a few seconds later. Jemma took a rag from her mum and wiped her arm off.

‘I’m F’ appeared. Jemma grinned. She drew a heart around the F before going to sleep. They were both still there when she woke up.

****

F didn’t write much over the next few years, though there were frequently drawings of monkeys, which got better as Jemma got older. She’d always draw hearts around or by them.

Eventually, they were joined by little technical drawings, mostly of common things around the house, and a lot of circuit diagrams.

When she was nine, she started drawing chemical equations back, along with math problems.

F really liked those, and it was fun to race to see who could figure out the solution first.

Jemma was very aware she wasn’t like other girls in her class. Her mind moved quicker, saw things differently. Remembered more. She would have despaired at always feeling like an outsider, only F seemed to be just as quick, so she always knew she wasn’t the only person in the world like her.

When she was ten, she woke one morning to neatly printed text on her arm.

F’s father had left, and his mum didn’t mind if he wrote her. He was sad his dad had gone, and confused, but Jemma was secretly very happy, and told F all about her day, what she was studying, even what she had for dinner.

F responded in kind, and it became normal for her to chat about everything and everything with him.

It wasn’t until she was twelve that she thought to ask F to confirm that he was a boy. The response was an indignant ‘of course I am’ underlined three times. She’d primly responded that no one should make assumptions like that. After all, a soulmate didn’t always mean you were meant to be romantic partners, just that you were very compatible. There were a ton of books and movies about soulmates not being attracted to each other, or soulmates that found each other only to end up with one of them being terrible to the other.

Though it was hard to imagine F being awful. He still drew monkeys for her, especially if she was feeling sad.

Jemma went to university at 13. So did F. Which Jemma’s mum had thought she was making up, but Jemma had rolled her eyes and said he was studying engineering and if she was making it up, then why wouldn’t he be in chemistry or biology like her?

The next few years were a whirlwind. Jemma graduated during the summer semester after she turned sixteen with two PhDs, while F only had one. But the project he’d been involved in had been too all-encompassing, and he hadn’t been able to fit any more classes in than he already was taking, so she didn’t hold that against him.

Jemma had wondered if she could find F that way, by looking for an announcement about him graduating, or a journal article about his findings, but it seemed intrusive. They’d never talked about meeting, and she didn’t want to force him into anything, not when he was the only person that would work out tricky problems with her at two in the morning or listen to her complicated Harry Potter fan theories.

They had their first fight a week after graduation. F wrote her a drunken sounding note about kissing a girl, all about how nervous he’d been, and if Jemma had any advice.

Jemma wrote back a terse. ‘I’ve never kissed a girl’.

‘You should try it!’

Something dark and angry seethed in her chest. ‘Whatever’ she’d written back before putting on a long sleeved shirt and going out with friends.

Jemma made out with some guy she both couldn’t and didn’t want to remember the name of. It wasn’t much fun. She kept her shirt on the entire time. Then the next day. And the one after that.

Writing appeared on her legs. Her hands.

She ignored it, still stupidly angry at stupid F, even though she knew it didn’t make sense for her to be. He could be ugly for all she knew. And they were friends, period. 

The writing disappeared for a few days, leaving her strangely empty. In a fit of pique, she applied to work for SHIELD. It was far away from everything, and she could reinvent herself. They called her the next day to tell her she was accepted to the Academy with a full scholarship, including room and board. The semester started that fall.

Later that night, writing appeared on the back of her hand.

‘Will you at least tell me you’re alright?’

Jemma sat down beside the bag she was already packing, even if she didn't leave for a few more weeks. She uncapped a sharpie, hesitated, then wrote. ‘I’m okay. I’m sorry. I just felt weird. But it’s okay now. And you’re right, kissing is nice.’

It was nearly five minutes before F wrote back. ‘Alright.’ The word was written messily. ‘We should have talked about this stuff sooner. Do you want to try and meet?’

She exhaled slowly. ‘Maybe someday, but right now I’m about to start a new adventure I can’t talk much about, only that it involves more school. But I don’t think we should imagine we’re meant to be together like that. It’s such a cliché. I want to always be your best friend. And we can talk about everything, including people you’re interested in. I’ll help you out.’

Jemma’s heart broke a little. Part of her had been imagining she’d meet F and they’d live happily ever after. But having a friend that understood you like no one else was a big plus.

It wasn’t like they could never meet. There were ways to trick the rules. Like writing one letter for a web address every day until you had the entire thing and could connect and chat. Or a phone number done the same way. Or even GPS coordinates. 

There was also the more traditional way. You couldn’t say ‘I live in London,’ but you could say ‘In Liverpool there’s a bus stop in front of a theater, let's meet there at 2 pm on Friday, I’ll wear yellow.’ But her and F had always been too young and busy for that sort of thing.

F doodled a little monkey with wings. ‘Sounds okay. I’d like that. And I got a new project I can’t talk much about too. Let’s promise to always be friends.’

Jemma smiled. ‘Promise.’

****

Fall came quickly. The Academy was big, with a lot of people, of which she seemed to be the youngest. The first few days were terrifying, and Jemma desperately wrote F at night in her dorm room, pouring her heart out about being overwhelmed and homesick.

He said his new project was much the same. However, he knew she was strong and that she’d make it. Jemma believed him and told him he’d do fine as well.

On Thursday, the autumn morning crisp and clear, she had her first chemistry class. It wasn’t chem 101. The course was specifically designed to challenge high-level students and help sharpen their minds towards the amazing variety of things SHIELD needed from its tech division.

Moments before class started, a student came running into the small lecture hall. He looked around frantically before spotting the only empty desk, which was next to her in the front row. The student collapsed into it, pulling out a notebook and pen. Jemma glanced out of the corner of her eye at him. He was staring at her, and his eyes went wide at being caught. He turned them down to his notebook, but not before she noticed they were a rather stunning shade of blue.

He was young, maybe very young, like her, with a mop of curls on his head that were rather endearing.

He was cute.

For the first time in her life, Jemma found herself flustered by another person.

It only got worse as the class began and it became apparent that the guy was brilliant. His hand shot up every time hers did, and like her, he already had an excellent grasp of the course’s material and was able to answer questions with ease, just like her. Their prof was beaming at them, while the rest of the students glared in their direction.

When class finished, she stood at the same time he did. “Hello, I’m Dr. Simmons,” she said, holding out her hand. The guy stared at it, then cautiously stretched out his to shake it. He didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes on their hands. His touch was charged. His warm fingers sent unexpected heat racing up her arm.

He gasped and snatched his hand back. Had he felt it too?

“I’m very impressed with how you handled the professor’s questions,” Jemma said.  “And I’d like to sit and talk with you. I think we might have a lot in common. Maybe—”

“Uhh-“ the guy interrupted. He glanced at the door and waved a hand at her, then shouldered his bag and rushed off.

How rude. Jemma sighed. He hadn’t even said his name. If only he wasn’t so intriguing. Or yummy looking.

That night, as she got ready for bed, writing from F appeared on her arm.

‘J, are you there?’

She sat down on her bed, pulled her knees up, and uncapped a felt-tipped pen. ‘I’m here, what’s up?’

‘Are you sure it’s okay to talk to you about relationship stuff? I don’t want to make you mad.’

‘It’s fine. Did something happen?’

‘No, yes, maybe. I don’t know.’

Now that sounded like her F. There was a pause as he wiped his arm clean. She did the same.

‘I think I met someone,’ he wrote.

Jemma’s stomach dropped, but she had to remind herself that they’d basically agreed they weren’t destined to be grand lovers and that him being with someone wouldn’t mean he’d never talk to her again. ‘Tell me about her.’

‘Oh, J, she’d brilliant, with the best smile I’d ever seen and the brightest eyes. She’s so alive and incredibly beautiful. And did I mention smart?”

Jemma chuckled, F was obviously very taken. ‘What about her boobs?’

‘J!’

There was a pause. Jemma could almost hear F sigh.

‘They looked perfect. I think I could spend my entire life with my face stuck between them.’

She threw her head back and laughed. ‘She sounds amazing.’

‘She is, but I think I already messed things up. I didn’t have the courage to say anything. I’m such a wanker.’

‘Stop. No. When will you see this paragon again?’

‘Next week for sure.’

Jemma bit her lip. ‘Just say hello and talk to her. I promise she’s not as scary as you think she is.’

‘Ugh.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ she wrote after cleaning her arm. She didn’t have anyone else to tell, but hopefully, F would understand, since it sounded like he was going through the same thing.

‘Oh?’

‘There’s a guy here, he’s intelligent—’ she squinted at her arm, trying to decide how much to say. But since he’d gushed, she decided to as well ‘—and so interesting. And cute. Really cute. I want to lick him.’

‘I just snorted.’

‘His eyes are dreamy, Mr. Snorter. I want to talk with him. He’s handsome. And has a marvelous mind. I think I’m going to marry him.’

‘That escalated quickly.’

‘Says the guy who wants to smoosh his face into the rack of some chick he just met.’

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing. I can’t explain it. She just felt important. Like I’ll know her the rest of my life.’

Jemma smiled. ‘I like that thought. And that’s how I felt too. It’s so strange it happened at the same time for us. And you have to keep me updated. Now, are you ready for some math problems? Because I have homework.’

The conversation moved back to familiar territory after that, their easy rapport shining through, comforting Jemma.

****

The next week, Jemma spent Thursday morning carefully choosing her outfit and curling her hair. Her jumper had a deep v-neck, and before chemistry class she undid a few of the buttons on her blouse. F’s declarations about breasts had inspired her to appeal to her classmate’s baser instincts.

Though she was wondering if she’d imagined how smart and attractive he was. Surely, he couldn’t be quite so appealing as she’d been telling F.

To her surprise, the young man was already at his desk when she walked in. He looked much more put together than he had the other day, wearing a neatly pressed plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tie, and his hair was at least a little neater.

She smiled as she sat down. “Hello.”

“Er, hi,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here—” He was Scottish. Jemma’s smile widened. “Well, of course you’d be here, you’re in this class, and well…”

“I’m glad you’re here too.”

His far-too-blue eyes lit up. “Okay, okay, great…um—”

The professor strode into the room, even though they still had another five minutes until class officially was supposed to start, but he started speaking, and Jemma was forced to grab her notebook and quickly find a blank page.

Twenty minutes later, she was bored. The prof was going over basic lab safety, of all things, because while the lecture was on Thursday mornings, they’d be having labs starting next Tuesday. The guy next to her looked even more bored. He wasn’t even pretending to take notes. He pulled a black felt tip pen out of his bag and began to doodle on his arm.

Oh, damn it. Of course, she would meet someone fantastic, and they’d have a soulmate. Well, so did she, but most people expected to be with theirs forever as partners, not just good friends. Out of morbid curiosity, she leaned over so she could see what he was drawing.

It was a monkey. A very familiar looking monkey.

Her breath caught in her chest. She hunched over and pulled the sleeves of her jumper and blouse up on her left arm. Sure enough, the same drawing was forming. Her eyes darted back to the guy, and she watched, fascinated, as his hand moved and the lines he made appeared on her skin.

Her heart was beating wildly.

He was her F. She wanted to laugh or cry because she’d sat right next to him and then told him how cute he was. Oh no. He said he was going to see the girl he was interested in this morning. The one that was very bright and had amazing tits. It was her. Probably. She’d never considered her breasts to be in the amazing category, but they did look good in a push-up bra. She glanced down at her front and undid a few more buttons on her blouse.

Class wound down, and the prof said he’d email them their lab partner assignments and which labs they should report to next week.

Jemma stood when the bell rang, and so did the guy.

“Nice monkey,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up for a second, and she pointed at his arm.

“Oh, right, er…I have…”

“A soulmate?”

“Yeah, but like…she’s just my really good friend.” It was adorable, he clearly didn’t want to be dismissive of his soulmate, but was also trying not to squash any chance of talking to the girl in front of him either.

He really was cute. And sweet. It made Jemma want to believe in a whole host of completely impossible things if fate was so determined to bring the two of them together.

“She likes monkeys?” Jemma asked.

“I’ve always drawn them for her, and she’s never told me to stop. And she always draws little hearts around them. It’s just a thing we’ve done since we were six.”

“I think that’s wonderful.”

“Oh, that’s, um, good.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“See,” she said, pulling a pink sharpie from her bag and biting her lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. She popped the cap off. “I have a soulmate too.”

The guy’s face fell. “That’s nice.”

“He’s amazing.” The guy’s face fell further. “I can talk to him about anything, and he understands me. I’d be lost without him. And he draws me these cool little pictures, which let me know he’s thinking about me.” She held up her arm, the monkey towards herself. “And I always draw little hearts around them to let him know how much I appreciate it.” She drew several next to the monkey.

The guy’s mouth fell open. He slowly picked up his arm, staring at it while she drew pink hearts that she knew were appearing on his skin.

His eyes darted from his arm to her and back again. “J?” he whispered.

“Jemma,” she said, capping the pen.

He looked like he was going to collapse. “Fitz,” he wheezed out.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Fitz, even though I’ve known you since I was six.”

Fitz still looked a little wobbly. He raised his arms, his hands shaking, and gave a little wave with one. She knew exactly what he meant and rushed into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smelled good, and she buried her face against him. He hugged her fiercely like he was catching up on ten years of missed ones all at once.

Far too soon, he gently pushed her back, though she refused to let go of his shoulders.

Fitz’s face was bright red. “I can’t believe,” he mumbled. “The things I said to you…about you.” His eyes darted downwards, widening slightly and she was very glad she’d been so daring with her cleavage. Her entire body tingled at his awed expression. He raised his face, and the tips of his ears were an even brighter red. But then a corner of his mouth turned up. “Wait…was it me? That you thought was cute? With, and I’m quoting, ‘a marvelous mind’?”

It was her turn to blush. She hugged him again. “It’s not like I was wrong. You’re very symmetrical, and smart.”

He chuckled. “You do like being right.”

“So do you.”

Fitz held her tight, and it was like she’d come home. Everything inside her was peaceful. “I think the universe might want us to be together,” he said.

She could have stood there forever with him, but her phone chimed, and she turned slightly, keeping her head against Fitz’s shoulder, as she pulled her mobile out of her pocket. The email she’d received made her laugh. “I think your hypothesis is correct.” She stepped back and held up her mobile. “My assigned lab is 318, and my lab partner is Leo Fitz.”

His eyes lit up. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either, but maybe we can start with lunch?”

He nodded vigorously and picked up his backpack while she shouldered her messenger bag.

“Do you want to go over that homework problem that was giving us fits last night?” he asked. “Whoever wrote that thing was a sadist.”

Her hand found his and their fingers intertwined. “Tell me about it,” she groaned.

Fitz laughed and squeezed her hand, and she knew they’d have to rethink the friends only thing. She was certainly not going to be capable of looking at anyone else ever again. This was the first day of the rest of their lives, one where they’d never be apart. She was sure of it.

The conversation flowed easily with any awkwardness pushed aside immediately. Jemma and Fitz had been discussing things for nearly as long as she could remember, and it felt just the same in person, but it was nice to hear his voice.

And it was even better to look at him.

She wondered if it was too soon for them to kiss?

Jemma would usually ask her soulmate something like that, but the funny thing was, she knew what he’d answer: That if she wanted to, she should go for it.

The sun was shining overhead as she paused in the middle of the quad. Fitz halted and turned to look at her. “Everything okay?” he asked. The light picked out highlights in his hair and made his eyes even more appealing.

“I was just thinking about something I’d usually ask my soulmate for an opinion on,” she said, and Fitz’s brows drew together.

“I’m right here,” he said, and a thrill went through her. He was her F, her best friend, her Fitz.

“I know, and I also know what you’d tell me if I asked.”

He nodded slowly.

She pushed up slightly on her toes and brought her lips to his.

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbled. Then his arms went around her, and he was kissing her back.

Just as she’d suspected it would be, the kiss was perfect.

Sometimes the universe did get things right.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been overwhelmed lately, and this was the result as I needed to hide in fluff and love. I plan to write a few more one-shots in this verse, please drop me a line on tublr [@sunalsolove](https://sunalsolove.tumblr.com) if there's anything you'd really like to see!


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